Hope, love and speedskates... A handful of years ago, speedskating helped me loose 70lbs. and gain back the person I had been. In the past three years however, I have managed to slide backwards, and it is with hope, love and speedskates (and of course some running shoes, a bicycle, and a swimming pool) that I embark once again on that journey. This time, I am going to write about the experience.
Heck, I give up, I am just going to WRITE

published articles

Sunday, October 21, 2012

and I get tossed again

I went out for a ride this morning, not really feeling it. Actually cranky was really the best way to describe how I was feeling. I just was not into anything, my head hurt, my lungs were tight, my mood was irritable at best and I felt like I was being tossed out of the house with my bike against my will. It is a pretty nice day out there, I will give you that, but all I wanted to do was sleep in, which also seemed to escape me. I have been restless since 3AM.
Kenny dropped me at the trailhead on his way to the grocery store. It wasn't more than 10 minutes into my ride that I realized I had ridden through one of my usual get off my bike and panic points without thinking about it. I am beginning to think that leaf cover is a great psychological buffer. Today, however, I learned how they also hide a multitude of things that I NEED to be aware of such as sticks that jump up and bite your back wheel, root outcroppings that require some technical finesse, and then there is the rock garden that sits on the bed of scree, more realistically it is a washout drainage area that has everything from small pebbles to boulders that are shin height and not secure in any sense of the word. Yep, I found my front wheel wedged, my momentum stopped, my bike twisted and my leg still attached to it because the mud in the cleat had managed to cement it to the pedal. The worst part about this tossing that had me falling into the same stuff that hung me up in the first place was my mood, I was even more ornery now. Damn that hurt and yes it already left a mark. I pulled my whiney ass up out of the rubble and dusted myself off, took a few steps to make sure I could and got back on the bike. It really was pretty and quite honestly not such a bad way to spend an hour. I took the wrong turn and found myself all turned around in a pretty technical cluster-f#%K in places. There was the drop-off that almost had me in a really green smelly swamp because of wet roots in the turn right at the end of it and the numerous obscured logs that were hiding under leaves, one was big enough to have to J-hop. Then there was another damn skinnie across a deeper mud puddle that then one I have issues with. Thankfully, I owned most of that one and only got my foot wet at the end. From the looks of it the last guy was not so lucky.
How did this crank fest end? I cut my ride 2 miles short and had Kenny pick me up where the trail crossed the road. He was on his way home from the store and it was on the way. My brain was too fried from the unexpected to manage the technical stuff I knew was ahead.
Now? I'm cleaned up, looking for something for lunch, very sore in places,tired enough that I may nap before ice, and not so cranky anymore.

About Me

I am a HS art teacher with four 20 somethings of my own. My own artwork has always been a reflection of my opinion about something. Sometimes thoughts ring louder in a visual format.
Besides creating artwork, I coach speedskating.